The Legend of Zelda: Unsound Spirit
by Sulfuric-Io
Summary: Fifteen years ago, the forces of darkness marshaled once more. With a malevolent head blazing the way, Hyrule's most horrible monsters, the dragons, were revived by the promise of bloodshed and brought fathomless grief to the country. Now, in a time where nobody can be trusted, what could a young Hylian boy possibly do to restore such a broken land to its former glory?


This is my first fanfic on this website, and the first one that will probably be seen through to the end. I appreciate your interest in the story, and hope you'll put up with my long gaps between updates (I'm still trying to perfect some aspects of the plot flow later on in the story, and I like to know how the story will go before I actually get there). To find the prologue, which is necessary for understanding the story, you can find it on my dA account (Fireshrike) - and if you would also check out the rest of my gallery while you're there, that would be wonderful. :3 So despite my writing skills, which I feel are terrible, please enjoy the story!  
TLoZ belongs to Nintendo, not me. Rated T for violence.

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**Chapter One:**

An out of season March wind chilled the desolate mining town. The sun had set only a few minutes ago, and a pink tinge was still visible between the peaks of the mountains, casting a faint glow over the cobbled streets and oaken houses. No life stirred in the street, for the citizens feared the Dark Lord's curfew, and hid in the depths of their homes after the sun's nightly departure from the sky. Nobody knew for certain the identity of the monstrosity that patrolled the streets after the last bit of light was snuffed out, as it was too dark too see and the beast never let itself be seen, but most were convinced it was a dragon serviced to the Dark Lord. The very threat of a dragon's presence scared even the strongest warriors senseless. They were vicious, cruel, and greedy, and often had little to no self control as far as their bloodlust was concerned. Only a few had survived the encounters, but even they hadn't escaped without severe injury. Even the boldest warriors blanched at the idea of breaking curfew – which made it even more bewildering when a completely unarmed Hylian teenager crept into the square.  
Down in the pavilion, Link shuddered, a silent battle raging in his skull. Every ounce of common sense he possessed was screaming at him to run back to the orphanage before it was too late, but he ignored them – if he could pull this off, he would no longer be a defect to his peers – he would finally be accepted. He shuddered again, trying to battle the powerful urge to flee, but could feel his courage waning. Unwanted thoughts slipped into his head as the fear slowly took over. Were they true, the rumors that a _dragon_ kept the curfew? Instantly, vivid images of destructive, scorching, ravaging walls of flame sprung to mind, which attempted to trigger panic. He deliberated as to why he had submitted to the other orphans' hazing to stay out past curfew in the first place. He tried to assure himself that if he could actually pull this off he would finally be received as an equal by the other orphans, but it was no use. The sheer stupidity of his actions washed over him like an icy wave, paralyzing yet invigorating. Link had been so desperate for acceptance that he had completely overlooked one crucial fact – the trio who had assigned him this mission of "redemption" were notoriously untrustworthy. He grabbed his forehead and groaned, suddenly realizing what was really going on. This whole setup was nothing but a plot to get him out of the way for good. He dropped to his knees in fury, but before he could regain his senses, a chill ran up his spine. Link froze. Something huge and bony slithered over the ground, massive claws clinking on the stone. _Chink. Chink. Chink._ Link's eyes widened in horror, and he slowly turned around, heart pounding.  
A single lamppost framed the silhouette of a gargantuan reptilian creature, which stopped barely fifty feet from Link. The clicking subsided with the beast's motion, and the monster's head swung around to face him; two piercing, draconic yellow eyes boring into his. For several harrowing seconds, neither moved a muscle. Then the beast shattered the silence with a hollow, rattling bellow, and Link's mind immediately fired into hyperdrive.  
He rocketed into a sprint, visions of roaring, all-consuming crimson wreaths sparking to life and aiding his speed. The behemoth instantly gave chase, its claws grating on the stone. Link shot around a corner and nearly tripped in haste, but surged forwards. He could see the orphanage at the end of the street, only a hundred feet away, and pushed his protesting body even harder. His muscles and lungs were burning with the strain, but he ignored them and slammed into the orphanage's door, pounding desperately on the wood.  
His heart leaped as lights flickered on in the windows and shouts erupted inside the building, but just as relief started to seep in, a hollow, rattling roar split the air from the other end of the street. Link panicked, but before he could do anything the door flew open and rough hands flung him inside. He fell to the floor as one of the matrons threw the oaken door shut and hastily bolted the locks. Before Link could catch his breath, she had grabbed his scruff and half dragged him into the inner hall, away from the windows. He slumped to the ground, chest heaving, and tried to calm his nerves.  
One thing the town's citizens had learned from the monster's living victims was that the beast would never continue pursuit once the violator was indoors – in other words, he was in the clear. It also meant that he was, so far, the only one to break curfew and survive with all limbs intact. He chuckled weakly, adrenaline levels beginning to subside, and clapped his hands over his eyes as the other orphans crowded into the hall. The matrons, donning bathrobes and clutching candles, pushed their way to the center of the babbling crowd. Miss Falone, the one who had rescued him, crossed her arms savagely and scowled at Link.  
"What were you thinking, staying out past curfew?!" she demanded. "Our reputation is poor enough as it is, without you brats constantly breaking rules! It's barely March and we've already had two visits from the mayor for disturbing the peace!" she shouted. Wincing, one of the other matrons – Miss Patrice – strode forward to stand in front of Falone as an unspoken signal to stand down. Distracted by this, the other orphans missed the silent exchange that flashed between Link and a blond-haired girl – Asper, the top dog of the orphans and the one who had pushed him into the rash endeavor in the first place. Link sat up, and almost immediately her cobalt eyes locked onto his in a glare anyone in their right mind would shrink from. He hesitated for a second, but recoiled when her two cohorts, Aiden and Murda, also fixed him with the same steely look. Knowing from experience exactly what they wanted and were threatening, Link gave a small, nervous nod in consent to her will, and Asper huffed and relaxed her gaze. The entire brief exchange going completely unnoticed by everyone else, the matron who had stopped Falone turned to Link. "Now, young man," she stated in a very brisk tone, "would you care to explain to me what you were doing out past curfew?"  
"I-I was…" Link began to stammer out a reply, but faltered when Asper shot him another warning glare. He stared at her for half a second in frustration, but then shook his head as he snapped back into the moment. He didn't dare outright deny one of the orphanage staff, especially when Miss Patrice was kind to him compared to the other matrons, but on the other hand the fearsome potential of Asper's wrath was _not_ something to be taken lightly. He came to the unpleasant decision that silence was the best option, which still wasn't saying much. He squirmed inwardly, uncomfortable with staying silent and dreading the imminent backlash that would follow, but it was better than his other options. "Link?" The matron asked again, more sternly this time. His insides were twisting themselves into a knot, but he forced himself into a resolute silence, not daring – or rather, managing - to meet her eyes. He could feel everyone's eyes boring into his skull, restlessly anticipating an answer.  
But finally, when he still refused to give after nearly a whole minute of stubborn muteness, Miss Patrice dropped her gaze and sighed deeply – the sign of defeat. She grimaced and covered her face with one hand, the other arm still folded across her stomach. The woman shut her eyes, seemingly lost in thought. "Go to bed, all of you," she ordered stiffly, shaking her hand in the vague direction of the stairs. "And don't stay up, you'll all need to get up early in the morning – the mayor's sure to come calling tomorrow about this whole mess, and half the town'll be yammering to hear the story. We don't want to make ourselves look even worse. Go on, go!" she commanded again, when the orphans continued to hover around the hall. Link was among the last to leave, but noticed that Asper and her cronies waited for him to leave before they did. Dropping his shoulders, he climbed the stairs and shuffled down the hall with the other orphans.  
He opened the door to his room, but before he could go in someone grabbed his scruff. He almost yelped, but stifled it when he realized who had stopped him. "You made the right choice," Asper hissed out of the corner of her mouth, Murda and Aiden positioned behind her. Link clenched his fists.  
"We had a deal, remember?" He whispered angrily. "I stay out past curfew and come back alive, and you finally stop bullying me. That was the agreement."  
Asper sniffed disdainfully. "You honestly expected me to follow through with that? I feel sorry for you," she scoffed, releasing her grip on his shirt. She stalked away, Aiden and Murda tailing behind her. Before they disappeared around the corner, Murda threw a sneering glance at him over her shoulder. Link balled his fists, suppressing the emotions that were now trying to overwhelm him. He marched stiffly into his room and closed the door forcefully, trembling with badly concealed misery and outrage. Link dropped onto his bed, curling into a ball and letting the feeling of defeat wash over him. A single tear stung his face, followed inevitably by more as his face contorted with the anger. He didn't even try to stop the flow, knowing from experience that releasing his feelings was better than trying to hide them.  
He let himself cry for several minutes, stopping when his emotions finally started to come back under control. He dragged himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around his knees and gazing at the moon though his window. When full, like it was now, Link found the moon to be beautiful - a silvery celestial jewel. It looked graceful and serene, placed among the stars like a queen of the night. In a way he admired it, always keeping watch over the land at night, only disappearing for several days out of the month before returning to her quiet post as sentinel of the skies. He felt his stress slowly melting away, replacing his scowl with a contented smile. Someday, he hoped, things would get better. _They have to, don't they?_ He thought.  
He recalled one of his private mantras that he often recited when he was beaten down – _Dark cannot exist without light. Sooner or later, light will return, the same way one starts a fire and returns a room to warmth. _A welcome feeling of peace settled over him at the thought. His gaze dropped to the shadowy alleyways, and felt a tremor of foreboding as he remembered the hollow roar and reptilian form of the beast that patrolled them at night. The candles of the world would return someday, that he knew was undeniable. For all this darkness to exist, there had to have been light at some point. The _real_ question was, who would be brave enough to do it?


End file.
